


365 Days

by Musings_RS



Category: One Direction, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Character Death, Dark, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Harry Styles is just my over all muse, I Don't Even Know, I don't really know what tagging even is, I'm so sad right now whyyyy, Love, Love Triangles, M/M, Saaaaaad, Sad, Sadness, alternative universe, larry - Freeform, really sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 13:18:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2623172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musings_RS/pseuds/Musings_RS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been 365 Days and it still hurts so much.</p><p>If there was a time span for these things, a day or a moment where he was supposed to wake up and be okay, Harry was yet to find it.</p><p>Mornings were particularly difficult. The feeling of waking felt more like falling… falling into despair. It would probably be worse than anything else, if Zayn was to find out how he felt. Even though Harry wasn’t sure Zayn didn’t already know. It was hard to tell. Zayn didn’t talk much anymore. Or maybe that was because Harry hardly responded.</p>
            </blockquote>





	365 Days

**Author's Note:**

> This is important and this came from a dark place of personal experiences. (Kind of) It's important to me and I'm going through a lot. I have a lot of feelings so I write them and make up crazy stuff. I really do love Harry Styles and I think he's an important part of our world. Harry Styles is my current muse and I enjoy writing.

It had been over 365 days but Harry still felt the pain every single day. The memories never faded and the pain in his heart never ceased. Ink etched into his skin served as a daily reminder of what he had lost. Irreplaceable. The word was scrawled in black right across his wrist, marking just below the letter ‘L’ he often avoided looking at. If there was a time span for these things, a day or a moment where he was supposed to wake up and be okay, Harry was yet to find it.

Mornings were particularly difficult. The feeling of waking felt more like falling… falling into despair. Realising he would have to face another day and do so with a smile just so others wouldn’t feel bad. That would probably be worse than anything else, if Zayn was to find out how he felt. Even though Harry wasn’t sure Zayn didn’t already know. It was hard to tell. Zayn didn’t talk much anymore. Or maybe that was because Harry hardly responded.

‘I’m sick of toast.’ Zayn had commented at 7.50 in the morning. He looked thoughtful and unhappy. Harry had mustered up a smirk despite the fire burning in his stomach. Fire was always burning. That was all Zayn said all day. Harry didn’t respond. Maybe that was why Zayn disappeared before too long, stalking into his room and turning on too-loud music minutes later. Harry had just continued to stare at his plate. His beans looked sad and his soul felt torn.

Christmas was fast approaching and Harry considered decorating the flat. He wasn’t sure if Zayn would mind but if he did he probably wouldn’t comment anyway. Still, it gave Harry something to do. Something to hide the pain and face the day. Of course he had the opportunity to go to his lectures and do everything he was supposed to be doing but it didn’t feel like time yet. A year wasn’t long enough to just get over these things. Maybe he would go soon. Or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he would just crawl into bed and stay there for a few weeks and wallow deep and dark until Zayn dragged him out. Maybe.

He didn’t end up decorating though – he just sat at the breakfast bar in his and Zayn’s kitchen and stared at his food all day. Literally all day. Zayn stayed in his room and the quiet was too much but not enough.

*

‘You can’t sit in your house all day being depressed.’ A lovely boy called Niall was talking. His face lit up with every word and he used his hands a lot. Harry was staring, probably too intently, his brows furrowed and his hands clasped tightly together. There was something about the boy that pulled him in. Intrigue. That was it – Niall intrigued Harry. Much in the same way Zayn used to intrigue Harry. Back when Zayn was a boy made of poetry and Harry cared to listen.

‘I know it feels like there’s no way things will get better,’ Niall continued, his voice light, ‘and maybe they won’t. But if you try at least you have that. I remember when I got my injury and they told me I couldn’t walk again, I was fucking devastated. It was all I wanted since I was a young lad and it fucking changed in a day. They said I would never kick a ball again. I swear I stayed under a blanket for three months, couldn’t bear the thought of facing the world.’ Niall’s eyes were far away now and Harry fought the urge to sketch his face and remember every bit of gaze forever. There was something about Niall.

Harry often thought the only reason he kept coming back was simply because of the doughnuts. He enjoyed them. He never ate them but looking at them reminded him of his childhood. Somehow. It was while Harry stood as he always did, admiring the doughnuts that Niall showed up at his side. He was a ball of energy and so, so intriguing still – Harry had to take a step back. The dark shades of his aura didn’t match the light coming from Niall. It was a bit too bright.

‘Harry right?’ Niall’s smile flashed too bright. Too bright. Too loud. Harry wasn’t sure he could withstand Niall.

‘Why?’ Harry asked suspiciously.

Maybe Niall should have been offended. Harry was guarded as ever, his arms behind his back and his gaze hard. Niall was too much for him.

‘Just making conversation mate.’ Niall reached out to shake his hand. Harry ignored it and looked back at the doughnuts. Childhood. Family.

‘Do you want to be my friend or something?’ Harry had asked after a moment, when Niall refused to move from his side or remove his hand.

‘I don’t mind. If it’s alright with you, I guess.’ Niall said with a shrug.

Harry didn’t agree or disagree, he just stood there as he always did. Except this time with Niall at his side. Ever since that day, every time Harry joined the circle, Niall sat next to him. And there was also that one time Harry came in late and sat next to Niall on purpose.

*

‘Hi.’ Zayn was too drunk. Too dark. Too much pain.

‘Hi.’ Harry grumbled. He pulled his covers over his head and silently wished Zayn would leave. He was too overbearing, too much and too dark. He spent half his day with the light that was Niall and now there was contrast. And contrast himself was currently throwing himself on top of Harry at 2 in the morning and demanding his attention.

‘Harry,’ Zayn touched his hair but it almost hurt. It probably hurt Zayn’s feelings, the way Harry jumped and moved away in the darkness.

‘I’m trying to sleep.’ He turned his back to the boy with the broken heart and waited for the sound of his footsteps. They never came. Instead, the smell of alcohol intensified and Harry winced while Zayn gently pushed him to the middle of the bed to allow himself on. It was the opposite of everything Harry wanted.

‘We should talk, Harry.’ Zayn’s words were slurred. ‘We never talk anymore. Don’t you love me? Don’t you want to know how my day was? You’re always so sad. I wish you would be yourself.’

Harry didn’t say anything, just touched the words etched into his skin and stared into the darkness.

‘You never go to the graveyard anymore.’ Zayn said after a moment’s hesitation.

Harry winced.

‘I think it could be good for you.’

Zayn didn’t say much after that. He probably had enough of being ignored. Harry felt bad and maybe that was why a little after 2.40 he turned around and held a barely there Zayn close. Too close. So close it hurt and Zayn sobbed into the night. Harry kissed the top of his head and sang him to sleep as he cried and sounded so sad.

‘I’m sorry.’ Harry said long after Zayn’s tears ceased.

*

They ended up going to the graveyard the next morning. It was the eleventh of November and the place was filled with people and poppies. Zayn and Harry wore poppies too and their eyes met often but they didn’t say much. Niall texted just as Harry was walking to the stone that caused all of his tears. Wishing him the best, Niall’s text had been filled with too many x’s and it just hurt Harry even more. What was peace again?

‘We should pick up all these leaves. Fucking autumn.’ Zayn muttered as they got to the grave. His hands deep in his pockets, Harry stared at the leaves littered around the grave. He quite liked autumn.

Zayn’s eyes already looked teary and he sniffed, bowing his head and looking entirely uncomfortable. Harry could read him like a book, knew he wanted a cigarette and was contemplating if he could smoke there. Harry wasn’t sure if he could but didn’t see what the problem would be. Louis sure wouldn’t have minded.

_‘I get to do what I always dreamed of, Harry. Since I was a little boy. Always. This was my dream.’ His eyes were full of life and Harry could never say no to him. He’d never been good at it. Louis just had something about him._

_‘I’m worried about you. I fucking love you, don’t want to lose you.’ Harry argued, but he already knew he would agree. He always gave into Louis eventually._

_‘Babe, I’ll be back before you know it! It’s only 6 months. I just want to have this experience, you know? Go out there and see what it’s like in the middle of all the action.’ His eyes were so blue and he already looked more alive than Harry had ever seen him. Harry had said yes by the end of that very day and Louis kissed every inch of his face in delight._

‘Harry? I’m going back to the car, you know I can’t take this for too long. I’ll give you a minute.’ Zayn softly said and Harry nodded in response.

The air was cold and Harry wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck as Zayn left. He was alone. As he so often was. The words on the headstone stared at him as if taunting his very existence. Louis Tomlinson. Lost fighting for his country. Harry resented the very thought.

He knelt down and touched the words, missing him and wishing Louis was here to make fun of him or laugh or be mad at him or fucking anything. He’d taken all of Harry’s sunshine with him. He’d turned the day into night so easily and he was gone before Harry could even comprehend how much he mattered. How everything else paled in comparison. And now it had been a year. A whole fucking year. And it still hurt and he felt lost and he needed the love of his life. He needed his best friend. Shit, he needed someone to just bring the life back into Zayn’s dull eyes. Everything was wrong and nothing was the same and Harry just _missed_ him.

‘I miss you, Louis Tomlinson. I miss you.’ Harry’s voice was barely audible and he shook with every word. Bright eyes and teasing glances were no more. And the world felt so cold. Everything hurt. Louis was the light of his life.

‘I miss you.’ Harry repeated to no one and nothing.

All around him, people with red pinned to their shirts mourned the loss of everyone they lost to senseless wars. And Harry cried and he missed Louis. He always missed Louis.

*

November quickly turned to December before Harry could even get his head around how quickly time was passing by. It was difficult to comprehend Louis had been dead for over a year now and yet the months kept changing and the seasons came back around for a second time. Everything was the same and nothing changed even though the light had been extinguished from Harry’s life. Slowly, the world returned to normal and the condolences stopped and the phone calls of concern became far and few between and it was then that it really began to hurt. It was when the world returned to normal and Harry had to just get on with it that it finally hit him. Louis wasn’t coming back and there was nothing Harry could or was supposed to do apart from fucking move on. The shit hurt him right in his chest.

Harry wasn’t sure if introducing Niall to Zayn was a good idea but they got on well enough. Very well in fact. Zayn actually laughed and Harry wondered if this was a common occurrence. Maybe Zayn did still laugh just not with Harry.

‘I need to get my Christmas shopping done.’ Niall was laughing as he spoke. ‘Fucking nightmare and waste of money but you know how it is. The family will be expecting festivities.’

He was sitting in Harry and Zayn’s flat and looked right at home. Like he belonged there and they had been friends for years. Harry was sipping his drink and attempting to suss the situation out. Liam was there see, and his too frequent glances towards Zayn let him know that Liam was probably not okay. Harry liked Liam. He didn’t want him to be upset.

‘Good thing I don’t bother with it.’ Zayn commented lazily. He seemed oblivious enough of Liam’s glances but Harry wasn’t buying it. Zayn knew just how much Liam still loved him and cared for him.

He wished Zayn would stop being so stubborn and just forgive Liam already.

If he could, Harry would forgive Louis for anything, just about anything if it meant he could have just one more day with him.

‘Harry, mate are you looking forward to the holidays?’ Niall asked, his crutches leaning against the couch. Harry didn’t know why he even took them out. He could walk now without them, even if he did limp slightly. Harry liked that he did limp slightly, it added character.

‘I’m not a fan of the festive season.’ Harry said with a shrug before sipping his drink.

‘You’re not a fan of much are you?’ Niall said with a smirk.

Harry shrugged non-committedly.

‘Suppose not.’

*

It was a beautiful Tuesday in the middle of May when Harry’s life had changed. He had been laughing, crying of laughter in fact, falling over himself as Zayn tickled him almost to death.

‘Fuck you!’ Harry cried as Zayn tugged at his hair and his eyes were gleaming so mischievously Harry almost wanted to caress his face. Louis had been gone a long time and Harry had been having feelings lately. He hated them but maybe he couldn’t help it. Because Zayn was something quite beautiful and he made him laugh in ways that reminded him of Louis’ laughing blue eyes. It made him feel happy again and he almost forgot about his boyfriend who was stationed in the middle of God knows where and Zayn was… there. He was there and Louis wasn’t.

Louis’ last letter had been particularly sad and sounded like he was giving up. It had been 8 months since he had gone to fight and Louis loved being a soldier and Harry hated it, resented it and missed him. He missed him so much.

_‘My love, I feel like so bad knowing that I could be holding you back from the best years of your life. You’re still so young. You’re in uni and I want you to experience it to the fullest. I chose this dream of mine but you didn’t. I don’t want to hold you back so if you choose something else don’t for a second think I would hold it against you.’_

Harry had been seething when he read the letter, pacing around the flat for ages before scrunching it up and throwing it at the wall. When he finally managed to reach Louis on the phone _2 and a half weeks_ after the letter, Louis had sounded far away. He sounded so far away but he still gave Harry butterflies and he needed to talk to him. Needed that release.

‘Babe, you’re being ridiculous!’ Harry had all but shouted into the phone. ‘I told you I’d wait and it’s almost like you don’t trust me and you think I’m capable of shit like this. I waited for you all these months. You said six and I’ve been waiting long after six and you still don’t goddamn trust me.’

Harry’s hair was wild and he was sleep deprived and he had an exam in the morning and Louis was still so fucking far away.

‘I… Harry look, I don’t want to fight okay.’ Louis sounded like he was sick. A cold maybe. His voice was different and he was definitely sniffing. ‘I already miss you like shit and the only time I actually get to talk to you I don’t want to waste it fighting. I said what I did in my letter because I don’t think it’s fair for you to wait for me. I hate doing this to you.’

Harry sighed heavily and threw himself a bit too dramatically down on the bed. He wanted more than anything to hold on, to wait and to miss Louis for as long as he had to. Louis was everything to him. Having to convince Louis of that every second was just ridiculously painful.

‘I love you.’ Harry said after a moment of nothingness. ‘I love you. I love you. So much. I love you.’

Tears clouded his vision and his ceiling was blurry. The white of the paint reminded him of the whites of Louis’ eyes and jeez, he needed him.

‘I love you so much.’ Louis was definitely crying. He sounded small and weak and tired and far away.

The phone had cut off somewhere in between Louis telling him just how much he meant to him and Harry absently smiling and wishing for more. There was only distance. He needed more.

That was only a month prior to the moment when Zayn had him lying on the floor with his inhibitions gone and laughter in his eyes.

‘Get off me!’ Harry practically squealed, trying to push Zayn off and trying so hard not to give in. To stop himself from just reaching up and tugging him down and kissing him because Zayn Malik deserved to be kissed. He was so fucking beautiful and he would be breaking every rule in the book but shit, he was so present. Harry wanted to lose himself in the moment and Zayn’s arms and just be an all around dick in the whole situation because he was weak. And he missed closeness and he surely loved Zayn in so many ways. Why couldn’t he just cross every line imaginable and do the unthinkable.

‘What’s the magic word?’ Zayn teased, still pinning Harry down and reminding Harry of the stars and the moon. He was electric, spell-bindingly beautiful. Harry wanted to touch his face to just to see if it was real and so he did, probably for longer then he should have. Zayn’s eyes closed at the touch and it was written all over his face just how badly he wanted Harry. In ways he would never admit, especially to Louis considering they were _best friends_ and shit, Harry was a bad, awful person.

‘Magic word, Styles.’ Zayn’s voice was softer and Harry’s hand still remained on his cheek. ‘Magic word.’

Harry hesitated but only for a moment before he found words again, the moment between them having taken them from him with its intensity.

‘Yes.’ Harry’s voice was barely a whisper. ‘Yes, Zayn.’

Zayn’s eyes opened with a start, filled with a new life and a spark of something raw. Something dangerous and terrifying and wrong. So wrong on so many levels that it hurt Harry’s insides just how wrong it was but he loved it at the same time. He yearned for it and he reached out as they met each other half way, pausing just inches before their lips met.

‘Say it again.’ Zayn said, almost painfully.

‘Yes!’ Harry cried out, with all the intensity of a boy who was lost. ‘Fucking yes.’

And that was all it took. Their lips met and Zayn parted Harry’s hungrily, both of them reaching out for something they shouldn’t. It was a beautiful moment of betrayal and Harry loved every second. Even shuddered to think of his life without it as Zayn relaxed and allowed his weight to envelope Harry, his hands touching every inch of Harry’s body. They were a tangled mess of deceit on the floor of the flat they shared ever since they’d moved in there with Louis the previous year. Louis. The blue eyes that felt farther away than the clouds.

Harry couldn’t even think about Louis. He was lost in Zayn and Zayn was here, he was here. He was so here. He tasted like freedom and lust. Harry pulled him in closer and closer until Zayn began grinding against him to a steady rhythm. Something in the back of his mind screamed at him and wished he was a stronger person.

‘Fuck,’ Harry breathed against Zayn’s lips as he made a weak attempt to pull away. It just paved the way for Zayn’s lips to suck on that part of his neck which had been reserved for Louis for so long now. It made his heart thump loudly as he became even more overcome by the beauty of this boy. This sensual boy who… wasn’t Louis.

He wasn’t Louis.

The thought crossed Harry’s mind at the exact same time as a knock came at the door. It was odd and unexpected. It was enough to break the two of them apart, Zayn pulling away with a start leaving Harry cold and lost once more.

‘Who the fuck is that?’ Zayn’s eyes were still dark and filled with pure want. He wanted Harry still and had for so long and they had actually fucking given into it. And shit. Harry was a bad fucking person.

‘Not a clue.’ Harry somehow managed to find words.

He fumbled with his belt buckle which he wasn’t even aware of Zayn undoing and winced at the thought. He couldn’t believe it had gotten that far. Zayn was still watching him, a mass of too red lips and lustful eyes and dishevelled hair. There was no regret in his face and Harry wasn’t even sure Zayn would even know what the word Louis meant at this point.

‘You gonna get it? Or you want to play some more?’ Zayn smirked.

Harry smiled despite himself, even though his mind was slowly returning to normalcy. Guilt was beginning to settle in and he felt stupid. Young and stupid.

‘Fine.’ Harry said as he got to his feet, slowly followed by Zayn.

It was as if coming down from the highest of highs as Harry attempted to ignore the way Zayn looked at him with those eyes that were so captivating.

Harry was still frazzled by the whole thing as he finally managed to open the door. He didn’t know what he expected to see. Possibly Zayn’s ex Liam showing up to apologise for the millionth time after his cheating ways. The last thing he really did expect though was the one thing he could never have prepared for. Soldiers in uniform with forlorn expressions and sad eyes. Harry immediately backed away, his heart falling into nothingness, set to never return. He bumped straight into Zayn who was surely just as overcome with fear as he was.

‘Mr Harry Styles?’ The first of the two men asked, his gaze meeting Harry’s reluctantly.

Harry shook his head vehemently and attempted to back away further though he couldn’t. Zayn was holding him by the waist now because apparently at some point his knees had given away and the world was fucking dark. So fucking dark.

‘No.’ He said and his voice was calm and despite his insides. He didn’t even break. ‘No. You’ve got the wrong flat. No.’

The man looked ready to speak again but Harry slammed the door with a start, shaking his head repeatedly before turning to face Zayn. Tears were already covering his face and his eyelashes were soaked in sadness.

‘Harry, open the door…’ Zayn sounded lost and his voice was higher than it had ever been.

‘No. They’ve got the wrong flat, Zayn.’ Harry cried. His words tasted like denial. ‘No, Zayn!’

‘We have to talk to them.’ Zayn shrugged Harry off as he attempted to stop Zayn from opening the door. The two men were still there as he opened it and Harry wished them away. Harry wished this day didn’t happen and he hated his life and his mouth still tasted like Zayn.

‘Mr Styles…,’ the man began again, with a comforting tone to his voice.

Except Harry didn’t feel comforted. He felt angry and he felt hatred.

‘NO!’ He shouted louder than he possibly ever had in his life. ‘Fucking NO! Go away! We don’t want you here!’ He was sobbing, shaking and hysterical now. Zayn attempted to hold him though the sound of Zayn’s sobbing wasn’t much quieter.

‘Harry. Calm down. Harry please.’ Zayn pleaded, his arms around him tightly, restraining Harry. Harry was seeing red now and wanted to lash out to physically hurt, to cause pain and ease his soul. But it didn’t happen. Death was real and death was permanent and death was staring him right in the face.

‘We regret having to tell you that your friend Louis Tomlinson was killed in the line of duty this evening…’ the words were a blur and fucking killed every being of Harry.

‘Fuck you! You fucking liar!’ Harry punched the door he resented for being ajar. Kicked, screamed and shouted at Zayn. Hated the world. Wanted to hurt everyone and everything because no, no just fucking no. Harry was the worst kind of person and didn’t deserve Louis but he needed him. The world needed Louis Tomlinson. These men didn’t get to just take him away.

‘Fuck off and don’t come back!’ That was the last intelligible thing Harry had said that day. The rest of it was tears and crying. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t face the world without his fucking light. That was the day that Harry had died. All that roamed the streets now was a mere shell of a boy who once existed.

*

Harry’s family was big on therapy and rehabilitation. That was how he had met Niall. Even though he no longer lived in Cheshire and hadn’t visited, not even at Christmas they still managed to check on him regularly. Gemma even wrote long emails every day even though Harry hardly ever replied. Going back North or even thinking of it was too much for Harry. It reminded him too much of Louis who was so quintessentially Northern and so fucking British. After Harry had lost Louis, Harry had wanted more than anything to leave Britain.

‘We’ll go travelling all over the world. We won’t just stay in one place.’ Harry had said in a conversation trying to convince Zayn. It wasn’t to any avail however as Zayn had just shrugged the idea off.

‘H, I don’t want to waste my life. I have to finish Uni and you can’t run from your problems forever. You’ll eventually have to come back home.’ Zayn had reasoned.

That had been the end of that conversation.

Harry still longed to get away though. Just being in London didn’t feel far away from the memories of Louis.

Therapy helped somewhat – it had introduced him to Niall who had quickly become a massive part of his life.

‘I had a wicked time at home.’ Niall claimed on the first of January. He’d returned with presents and smiles that lit up Zayn and Harry’s dull flat. ‘Everyone was so happy to see me and they’re so glad I can practically walk fully now.’ His crutches lay sadly on the floor.

‘We’re proud of you mate.’ Zayn commented from the couch, his eyes glued to the TV. He looked more lifeless than usual. Harry supposed Christmas had sucked any joy left from his eyes.

‘I am too! Fucking hell, months of physiotherapy and who would have thought it that shit actually works!’ Niall laughed brightly as if it was anything to laugh at. It was quite the accomplishment actually, Harry thought as he sat beside Zayn, envying everything Niall had the freedom to be. Harry knew he could never have the kind of happiness Niall possessed again.

‘What did you get?’ Harry asked with a smile. A smile because Niall deserved smiled and all things good. He’d been in a shit situation but he had worked every single day to fix his life. He’d returned to university and he walked. He fucking walked to university and led a therapy group for students as depressed as he had been. He was amazing.

‘Everything.’ Niall said with a mischievous glint before pulling out a shiny phone from his pocket. He handed it to Harry with excitement and pride. Harry examined it with a fond smile because Niall was happy. Niall made Harry want to smile again.

*

‘What exactly is Zayn’s problem?’ January was passing by in a blur and now it was time for exams. Liam wasn’t revising, wasn’t doing anything he was supposed to do. He was just sulking and talking endlessly about Zayn.

Harry was stressed and even that was actually saying something. Harry cared enough to be stressed. Harry gave a shit. Maybe he was going to be okay. Maybe he wasn’t going to be as fucking sad all the time.

‘Mate, I don’t know.’ Harry said for the millionth time. They were in the library, surrounded by books and yet Liam made no attempt to read. Harry was an aspiring lawyer after all so he actually gave a shit more than Liam who was ridiculously rich and couldn’t care in the slightest.

‘I made a mistake. A fucking mistake! It’s been so long!’ Liam was bitter and it showed.

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his curls, his hat falling to the table at the touch. He wasn’t sure why Liam even felt comfortable enough to talk to Harry about this situation considering Harry had actually gone there with Zayn knowing Liam was still in love with him.

‘Am I the best person to talk to about this?’ Harry asked bluntly, allowing his eyes to meet Liam’s.

Liam didn’t look phased at all. He just shrugged nonchalantly.

‘I’m not like that, mate. See, if I can forgive you for fucking around with Zayn even though you’re my friend… he should get over what I did! He knew you and I were friends and he went there. You both did. But I fucking got over it. He won’t even fucking give me a chance!’ Liam looked positively livid.

Harry was confused and wondered what had happened in Liam’s life for his eyes to constantly be filled with fire. He’d been that way ever since they’d met.

‘I don’t know what to tell you.’ Harry said, apologetically. ‘Zayn doesn’t speak about you much.’

That was enough to make Liam’s face fall to the ground.

Harry felt more shit about himself than usual. Liam didn’t say much after that.

*

‘Happy birthday!’ Harry wanted to sound enthusiastic. He really did. But it came across flat.

‘Jesus, Harry. You could at least attempt to look like you care.’ Gemma’s face was pixelated and Harry saw himself blush in the corner of the screen. He didn’t like how Gemma could read him so well.

‘I’m sorry. I’m just tired.’ Harry said, eyeing himself again in the blue Skype bubble Gemma currently resided in. Had he always looked so thin? And did his hair make him look like he was homeless rather than artfully dishevelled? At least he certainly looked like a student. Messy and a bit broke.

‘Yeah. Fine. I’m glad you at least remembered.’ Gemma smiled. ‘I hope you’re okay. I do worry about you sometimes. Not that much. Okay, hardly ever. I have to pretend to care though.’

Harry actually laughed at that. A real laugh that didn’t sound forced or sad.

‘Ever the charmer, Gemma Styles.’ He said, but his voice sounded way too fond.

Harry ended up spending 30 minutes trying to convince Gemma that yes, he was okay and no he didn’t spend his days crying. Not anymore. It was only half a lie because yes, recently he had been doing better. The tattoo on his wrist still burnt and he still woke up in the middle of the night because he thought he heard Louis’ voice. But it wasn’t that bad. It was bearable.

‘I love you.’ Harry said, waving at the screen.

Gemma made a face like she was disgusted but Harry could see in her eyes that she was secretly pleased. She always was with him.

‘Love you, you annoying wannabe hipster.’ Gemma smirked before the call ended.

Harry stayed at the breakfast bar long after Gemma was gone, just staring at the screen. His mind was filled with thoughts. So many of those that he hardly realised the winter sun had gone down. He hardly heard the sound of a key turning in a lock and only looked up briefly as a cold looking Zayn entered the flat. There were specks of snow in his dark hair and he brought the night with him. Zayn briefly looked at Harry before disappearing again, this time to his room. He was gone for a long while and Harry remained in his seat until Zayn finally returned. He’d rid himself of his long black coat and was now wearing his Batman shirt he wore too often and jeans that were too ripped. He eyed Harry for a second before coughing lightly and walking past him to the fridge.

Harry knew him well enough to know he was looking for his bottle of Coke. Harry used to tell him off all day for drinking the stuff but Harry didn’t say much anymore and Zayn continued to drink it. Sure enough, Zayn took a bottle out and drank straight from it.

Harry continued to stare at the screen, sighing to himself. Wishing he wasn’t so lost. He was anticipating the sound of Zayn walking past him and back to his room but it didn’t happen. Instead, Zayn walked over to him and stopped next to Harry. He was close enough for Harry to feel his too cold breath. Harry didn’t turn to look at him and they must have stayed like that for a long while.

The feeling of Zayn’s distant lips on him was unexpected but Harry hardly reacted as Zayn pecked him lightly on the cheek. His lips remained for a few moments before he exhaled deeply. His hands touched Harry’s hair in the way they used to and his other hand caressed Harry’s jaw ever so slightly.

‘You’re everything to me.’ He whispered into the broken parts of Harry’s soul before pulling him in and holding Harry’s head close to his chest.

Harry was certain that was probably the first time Zayn had spoken in two days. Harry’s eyes closed as he allowed himself to be held, making no move to touch Zayn. He just listened to the sad sound of Zayn’s heart beating and wondered if he could ever fix Zayn again.

Probably not.

‘Love you, H.’ Zayn whispered into Harry’s curls before letting him go.

He hesitated for a moment, probably willing Harry to say something. But Harry never spoke and Zayn turned and walked back to his room.

Harry was left feeling cold and it wasn’t until 15 minutes had passed he reached out to the space Zayn had been. There was only nothingness.

*

Louis had been the love of Harry’s life long before he even realised it. They had met randomly on the bus and connected because Louis had laughed when Harry fell over. It wasn’t even a discreet laugh. He’d chuckled and momentarily teared up as he watched Harry fumble around embarrassingly.

‘Stop it, you’re being rude.’ That was the first thing Harry had ever said to Louis. It just made Louis laugh louder and for longer. They had spoken for the whole bus ride, with Louis continuing to making fun of him and Harry should have probably known even that day that Louis was the love of his life but he hadn’t.

It was only a few months later when they’d kissed and held each other close enough to feel everything there was to feel that Harry had realised that yes, this boy was special. After that, he made it his mission to make Louis his so that every time Louis got those lines near his eyes it would be because Harry had made him laugh. It was lucky for Harry really, that Louis felt much the same way.

‘I’ve never felt more alive than when I’m with you.’ Louis often said late at night and Harry would smile and try to tease him for it just to cover how loud the words made his heart sound.

Harry was embarrassingly in love and young. Too young to realise that he was signing his heart away and it would never come back. Because Louis would take it with him to the other side of the world and he would never return. Harry would never get his heart back and everything was unfair.

‘I don’t have much.’ Louis would continue on those late nights. ‘But I’d give you everything Harry. You know I don’t have any family since I lost my mum. But you’re my family now, Harry. I would honestly do everything for you if you let me.’ And it was those promises that Harry missed. The way his voice sounded and the softness in his eyes. He missed so much. He missed the way Louis could walk into a room and brighten everything up in a second. Everyone who knew Louis loved him. He was confident in ways not many people were.

It was only on those late nights they shared that Louis would reveal his insecurities he hid from the world with his bright smile to and only to Harry. It was those late nights that allowed Harry to fall hopelessly in love.

They had made the decision to move in with Zayn because it was cheap and they wanted to live in London. Zayn was Louis’ childhood friend and Harry liked him well enough. He was creative and wrote constant poetry about the moon and the stars and the galaxies undiscovered which apparently meant nothing compared to his love for his boyfriend Liam. Harry liked Liam too and often laughed with him on their drunken nights out. It was amazing. Harry’s life was good. He was deeply in love and he wanted to attend university and he had friends and he loved Louis more than everything else.

‘I want to enlist in the Marines.’ Louis had told him late one night. Harry laughed it off immediately. He was tired, having come home from a draining shift at the bar he worked at.

‘Yeah, okay babe.’ Harry smiled, closing his eyes and already welcoming sleep.

But Louis hadn’t been joking and Harry could see that over the upcoming months in which he begged for Harry to give his consent. Of course Harry couldn’t resist, it was Louis’ dream afterall. So he gave in and he went with Zayn to the airport to see Louis leave and he still wasn’t happy with it all.

‘I’ll be back in six months,’ Louis’ arms were wrapped tight around Harry’s waist. ‘I promise. I just want the experience.’

Harry stuck his bottom lip out and was filled with sheer horror and the thought of losing Louis even for a day.

‘I don’t want you to go.’ Harry had said, sounding so incredibly upset.

‘I love you. I’ll be back so soon.’ Louis smiled though even he couldn’t help look unsure.

They had kissed for what seemed like hours, both crying and their hearts breaking in unison.

‘I love you.’ Harry had mouthed as Louis walked away and Zayn placed a supportive hand on Harry’s shoulder.

‘Don’t be a baby, H.’ Zayn had said as they walked away and it eased the tension and Harry hit Zayn playfully in the side. But it was still sad. He was still crying all the way back home into the sleeves of his shirt.

*

February came around too fast and Harry hadn’t even noticed it was two weeks into the month already. He was covered in a blanket and surrounded by sheets of paper that screamed obscenely at him about his lack of responsibility. How could he have allowed himself to get so behind with his uni work? Deadlines were coming for him and his hair was too long now that even tucking it behind his ear wasn’t enough anymore. He’d tied it up in a bun so he could look down at the menacing words without it falling into his eyes every second. A pen was in his mouth and he chewed on the end anxiously, wishing he wasn’t so far behind.

‘I thought maybe you might want to go for a pint? x’ Niall Horan had text him some thirty minutes earlier and Harry had groaned because he hated saying no to Niall but no, he was being good. He really was. He had turned Niall down and continued with his studies, only occasionally glancing at the muted TV.

It was around 8 when the door to Zayn’s room opened and he came out, his hair sticking out in odd places and his face pale. Harry glanced up briefly. They hadn’t talked much for a while… a long while, in fact and Harry felt a pang of guilt at seeing Zayn. He didn’t look in particularly good form. Ever since Louis’ death Harry had vehemently shut Zayn out, only ever briefly allowing him in on nights when Harry felt like he couldn’t take the world. He only used Zayn, as sad as that was.

‘Hi, you.’ Harry said, feeling overly bad and wishing he could reach out and wipe the sorrow from Zayn’s face.

Zayn looked startled that Harry was even speaking to him and halted momentarily in step before smirking in that way of his and walking over to Harry. He eyed the masses of paper for a second before sitting on the coffee table, directly in front of Harry.

‘Hello stranger.’ Zayn said with a smile.

A real smile that no longer made Zayn seem as hollow and dead as he had been for months.

Harry pushed the papers off his leg and onto the couch where he’d been sitting cross legged and messed up. He tugged on the sleeve of t-shirt and thought about his actions only momentarily before reaching across the space between them, extending his arms as long as they would go before meeting Zayn’s shoulders.

‘Can I have a hug?’ Harry’s voice sounded like he was giving in.

The guilt was still there in the back of his heart but he was weak and he was tired of fighting. He was tired of losing Zayn more and more every day.

‘Of course.’ Zayn replied, looking startled by the request.

He leaned in close and allowed Harry into his warmth, moving onto the couch next to Harry and holding him as tight as Harry remembered he always used to.

‘I love you.’ Harry muttered the words into Zayn’s neck and Zayn laughed nervously in response.

Harry pulled back, to hold his face in his hands and force their eyes to meet. There was so much disbelief and pain in Zayn’s eyes.

‘I love you. I always have. I fucking love you Zayn Malik, you better believe me. I love you.’ Harry admitted. Zayn laughed properly then and he was as beautiful as he had been every day of every year before everything was destroyed.

‘Okay, H.’ That was all Zayn managed to say before Harry touched his lips with his own. It wasn’t a kiss, just a brushing of lips. A promise. A renewal. Something real ignited in Harry’s heart and he considered for a moment that maybe he was still alive. Maybe he wasn’t completely dead inside.

‘I love you.’ Harry muttered, his words tickling Zayn’s lips and causing them to come together, allowing their tongues to intertwine. Harry kissed words of apology into Zayn’s soul and wished he could understand. There was no more distance between them, just love and desire for something that was.

‘I’ll always love you.’ Harry said because it was true and he wanted to be honest.

They spent the night in each other’s arms, wrapped up together on their couch and Harry almost felt normal again.

‘Happy fucking Valentine’s Day.’ Zayn laughed at midnight and Harry looked up at the clock, startled.

‘Indeed it is Valentine’s Day, Zayn Malik.’ Harry commented, shocked. ‘Happy Valentine’s Day.’

Harry spent the rest of Valentine’s Day in Zayn’s arms, resting his head on Zayn’s too loud chest.

*

The year was going too fast for Harry. He spent sleepless nights studying and wanting to better himself because shit, this was his last year in school. And he was going to be a real-life lawyer and Zayn was going to be a real-life English teacher and they were happy. Really happy.

Niall was playing football again every day and Zayn and Harry made it a point to go and see him every Saturday. It was important. They were there and it was important.

Even Liam seemed happier when the days started getting longer and the air became brighter with spring. He even stopped talking about Zayn as much, largely because he didn’t miss the way Harry’s hand lingered in Zayn’s hair and they stared at each other with so much love.

‘I’m glad you’re feeling better now, mate.’ Liam said to Harry one day as they sat playing video games. ‘I just want the best for you.’

Harry had nearly cried at that because he was a shit friend and person and Liam was a great friend. Harry contemplated that he probably deserved to lose Louis on account of being such an awful human being.

Harry spent his nights in Zayn’s arms because Zayn was beautiful. A beautiful distraction. He stared at Harry longingly with eyes that were definitely not blue but still almost just as much home. They shared secrets and actually spoke to each other and loved each other. Most nights they just lay together, trying to piece together the broken parts of themselves. Sometimes they fucked and it felt like everything Harry ever thought it would. It felt like betrayal and sweet deceit. Harry was addicted to the feeling and cried Zayn’s name repeatedly into the night until Zayn laughed and had to place a hand over Harry’s mouth just to stop him.

‘You’re going to wake the neighbours.’ Zayn would say but his eyes showed he loved the sound of Harry’s too loud voice.

‘I don’t care.’ Harry’s words were always muffled and he stayed out of breath for long after they finished.

‘I love you Zayn Malik, you give me so much pleasure.’ Harry would say as he kissed the back of Zayn’s neck when they’d finished betraying the night away.

‘You’re so romantic. Now get to sleep.’ Zayn would mumble and he’d try to push Harry away but he didn’t mind really.

Louis was always on Harry’s mind though, as upsetting as that was. He just blocked it out as much as he could and tried to focus on Zayn because Zayn was here and Zayn was present. It remained though and Harry sometimes cried in time to the soft sound of Zayn’s breathing.

*

As the weeks passed and Harry grew closer to Zayn than he had ever been, the memory of Louis began to fade. It became a distant pang of hurt rather than the constant feeling of agony it had once been. Sometimes, he even had days where he didn’t remember Louis at all and when he finally did, it made him feel guilty and pull away from Zayn’s sinful lips. Zayn always knew and never pushed the matter but he did always go to sleep in his own room on nights when Harry missed Louis.

It had been a week almost, of Zayn sleeping in his own room and Harry was still distant. Still not ready to fall back into Zayn. He almost wished Zayn would come back already, just so he could be distracted from the pain of it all.

Harry spent the better part of his night on a particularly dreadful Monday just scrolling through Louis’ old Facebook profile and liking every picture he could find. He didn’t care how crazy he was for doing it. He just sobbed and stared at lost blue eyes and beautiful smiles. He stared at his past and pictures of Louis with himself looking so in love. It hurt like hell.

**Zayn Malik**

go to sleep weirdo x

Harry laughed in surprise at the message, his mood immediately uplifted. He looked at the green symbol next to Zayn’s name. Zayn had surely seen Harry sitting there liking at least 30 pictures of Louis in the last 10 minutes.

‘I can’t without you x’ – Harry typed with shaking fingers. He sniffed back his tears and waited for a response that was brief and warmed Harry’s heart.

‘Come xx’

Harry practically threw his laptop on the bed and ran to Zayn’s room and Zayn’s arms because he couldn’t take the thought of being alone.

‘It’s okay.’ Zayn said as Harry apologised for his tears.

They held each other all night and Harry kind of sort of thought that he might have heard Zayn crying as well.

*

By March, Harry had decided he was truly in love with a boy who was reborn and made of poetry once again. He wrote and sang beautiful words to Harry every night. When Harry returned home after particularly awful days of studying case reviews, he’d often be greeted with the lovely sounds of Zayn playing his guitar and singing acoustic renditions of Harry’s favourite songs.

‘I love everything about you.’ Zayn said often and Harry almost smiled the pain away.

They even danced, holding each other close and actually allowed themselves to be silly and young, lost in each other. It was everything Harry needed in his life.

‘Marry me.’ Zayn had whispered so quietly that Harry hardly heard it.

‘Zayn.’ Harry said, startled.

‘Don’t say anything. Just… marry me. One day.’ Zayn smiled down at him and Harry snuggled in closer because it felt right.

And so Harry healed. Each passing day was one of healing. Harry was lost in a pair of brown eyes that made him want to shout for the whole world to hear. He wanted to be heard. He wanted to talk again. He found his voice again. The longing in his heart was still there and would probably never leave but here Harry was, alive and living again.

‘And now…,’ Harry said, looking into Niall’s encouraging eyes, ‘now it doesn’t hurt as much. I still miss him… I still miss him but it hurts less. I don’t spend every morning not wanting to get out of bed. I think I’m moving on. Healing, even. I mean… I attended this group for months and this is the first time I’ve spoken. This is the first time I’ve had the courage to speak. And it’s partly because of a boy in this very group – Niall Horan, who inspired me to start living again.’

Niall blushed and waved the words away in faux modesty as everyone cheered.

‘He lit up my life again.’ Harry continued with a smile. ‘And taught me that nothing can keep you down. Hearing Niall’s story and becoming best friends with him gave me the courage to move on. I’m healing. And it’s also because of someone very special in my life called Zayn Malik. He taught me that it’s okay to live. It’s okay to be myself and love myself. Death is hard because it’s permanent and the world stops. But eventually you come to realise that it’s permanent for the person who died. The people left behind still have to keep living their lives. And that’s what I’m trying my best to do.’

Niall had watched him with proud eyes and a lively smile. Niall had taught him everything he needed.

*

Harry had nearly finished University. He couldn’t believe it. Even after all the trials and tribulations, he was probably going to make it.

‘I’m sorry I’ve been so depressing all year.’ It was May and Harry was with Zayn. They were sharing a pizza and laughing a stupid comedy.

‘You’re still depressing.’ Zayn laughed.

Harry glared at him but it was teasing and he couldn’t help but feel so fond of Zayn. His best friend.

‘You’re everything to me too, you know.’ Harry said quietly after a while. Zayn just smirked to himself.

They were happy and enjoying each other’s company. They stole many kisses and loved each other deeply and it was only mid-afternoon that there was a knock on the door which broke them apart from each other.

‘And who the hell is that?’ Zayn asked lazily, rolling his eyes. ‘Bet you 10 pounds it’s Niall forgetting his bloody football kit here again.’

Harry laughed to himself as he slowly got up, wiping the crumbs off his shirt.

‘Yeah, that Niall.’ He muttered absently as he turned to get the door.

‘Hey… babe.’ Zayn stopped him as he was about to walk away.

Harry glanced down at where Zayn was holding his wrist and raised his eyebrow in question.

‘Kiss?’ Zayn asked, looking so adorable that it made Harry’s insides melt.

Why must Zayn be so incredibly good looking? It wasn’t good for Harry’s heart.

‘You’re cute.’ Harry said with a smirk, leaning down to peck Zayn’s lips before pulling away and heading for the door.

The knock sounded again, louder this time and more earnest.

Harry walked quicker, feeling slightly worried at the sound. He wasn’t good with knocking and doors. Not since… well, yeah.

Harry turned the handle and slowly opened the door, unsure of what to expect.

What he completely did not expect was what greeted him. Harry may or may not have passed out in fear, shock and horror at this point because all he was aware of was himself going cold from the top of his head to the very tips of his toes. Somewhere behind him Zayn had stopped breathing as well, he must have as they both stared at the doorway and the person standing there. Because… no. No. No. No.

Fucking no.

Harry blinked rapidly, turned away from the door and ran towards Zayn, cowering in fear and shock.

What?!

Fucking Louis.

Louis was standing there… in Harry’s doorway. His face was hauntingly familiar, his eyes were tired and he looked at Harry hopefully.

‘Harry…’ his voice – he, it – whatever the hell it was had started speaking. So soft. Just like Harry remembered.

‘Zayn.’ Harry said immediately, holding onto Zayn for dear life and hiding his face in Zayn’s neck. Because no… this was an awful dream. He hated it.

Zayn wasn’t in a much better state and he gripped Harry tight.

‘Harry, look… I know this is confusing.’ Louis spoke, stepping into the house. He was followed by Harry's mother and an army official and everything was too surreal and Harry hated this moment and he was fucking terrified.

‘See, Louis I told you we should tell him first.’ Harry’s mother said, eyeing Harry sympathetically. ‘They’re both terrified now. Look what you did. We should have called first.’ They had all entered the flat, all uninvited and fuck – Louis was alive?!

‘What – no! We had a funeral, Zayn! He has a grave!’ Harry was hysterical, yet again because of Louis who was standing right there and how could this be happening?

‘Mr Styles, we wanted to inform you straight away,’ the official looking man said politely, ‘but Louis wanted to surprise you. We learned last week that the air strike we thought killed Louis didn’t actually kill him. He’s been lost and trying to survive in enemy territory for over 14 months. We found him two weeks ago. I know this is a lot to take in.’

Harry’s eyes may have just about fallen out of his eyes and landed on the floor at that point though Louis’ never left Harry. He watched him with a tear-stricken face and he looked so completely unfamiliar to Harry that all Harry could do was clutch Zayn’s shirt for support.

‘How can this be possible?’ Zayn snapped. ‘This is absurd! You lied to us! Told us our friend was dead… what the hell is wrong with you people?’

Harry was overwhelmed with every emotion possible as conversations went on around him and he could hardly take it. He could hardly deal with the situation – he was convinced he couldn’t. Knew he wasn’t equipped for this situation. And all the while, Louis remained a constant figure back in his living room like he had never left. The whole night was a blur.

Harry didn’t say a word to Louis and Louis didn’t speak again. Ironically enough, Louis looked exactly like a ghost.

‘I’m sorry I can’t do this.’ Harry had said before disappearing off into Zayn’s room. He was terrified. His world had been turned upside down yet again and he wasn’t sure he could take it.

It was only after the night changed into soft silent darkness that Zayn came to join him. Harry was sitting on the floor, still shaking, still crying and still so confused.

‘They’ve gone now.’ Zayn said in his beautiful voice.

‘Zayn, did that really just happen?’ Harry asked, his voice cracking on every fucking word.

‘Apparently so, H.’ Zayn muttered quietly. He reached out and placed a comforting hand on Harry’s shoulder but Harry flinched, jumped, felt wrong and saw only haunting ice blue eyes blurring his vision.

Zayn remained at Harry’s side as Harry finally drifted off into the worst sleep of his life.

He was no longer sure what was real and what wasn’t. He was haunted by blue eyes all night. He wasn’t sure if he was even awake anymore and even in his sleep he felt sick. He felt so sick.

The healed parts of his soul had shattered the moment he saw Louis and he was once again a jumbled mass of nothingness. He was floating, lost and sad all alone and in his sleep he contemplated whether he was even alive. The feeling of Zayn holding him felt far away and Harry finally had the courage to let go and forget, only remembering darkness.

END.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I will write a part two to this because it deserves it. I will write it very very soon (I know none of my previous readers will trust me on this) I will finish Musings, also. I still haven't given up. I know I'm awful :( I hope this is okay. xxx


End file.
